


Anticipation

by stardropdream



Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: Gen, Post-Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-05
Updated: 2017-08-05
Packaged: 2018-12-11 15:10:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11716926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stardropdream/pseuds/stardropdream
Summary: Porthos is nervous as he waits for the birth of his and Elodie's child. (post-series)





	Anticipation

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted to tumblr for the prompt, "Elodie is having another baby and Porthos and Aramis are both anxiously waiting for the delivery and hoping for the best and Aramis is being the best of friends comforting Porthos."

It’s around the fifth time that Porthos has suddenly lurched to his feet and paced around the room that Aramis reaches out to grasp his wrist gently and says, “Porthos, it’ll be okay.” 

Porthos’ breath hisses out through his teeth – not an angry sound, but betraying his anxiety and uncertainty. Aramis, despite his calm demeanor, is not much better. 

Aramis quirks a small smile Porthos’ way, tilting his head. “Besides, this isn’t your first time at a birthing.” 

“It is my first time not helping,” Porthos grumbles, shooting a pointed look towards the door, behind which he can hear Elodie and the midwife’s conversation, a low hum without any discernable voices. 

Aramis chuckles and tugs at Porthos’ wrist again until he finally relents and sits down beside him. Marie, who has been relatively calm in Aramis’ arms sleeping (so used to resting in Aramis’ arms now, as he’s often the one to hold her when he visits on Elodie and Porthos), now starts to fuss and makes a baby-soft, sleepy coo. Aramis tilts his head down towards her and rocks her.

Porthos sighs out again, scrubbing a hand over his face. “I shouldn’t be nervous, yeah? This isn’t Elodie’s first child. And besides—”

He cuts himself off and breathes out again, lifting a hand – calm and steady, despite his nerves, Aramis notes – and strokes his pink finger over Marie’s forehead, brushing away the small little wisps of blonde hair. Marie coos again. 

Aramis smiles at him more, his expression unbearably fond – that Porthos should be nervous like this, when he’s almost an unsteady, deadly calm when on the battlefield. At least, so he’s been told. It’s a blessing he can be home in Paris for this, at all. (He’d joked with Elodie that clearly it was divine providence that the war council should fall just around the same time as her expected birth, since now her husband would be home. Elodie, unfooled by the Minister of War – who, indeed, has control over the war council – merely gave him a withering look when he said as much and deposited Marie into his arms so she could take a long nap.) 

Now, Porthos starts fidgeting with his hands, tapping his fingers rhythmically against his knuckles. Aramis waits until the movements start to slow into a fizzled kind of anxious pattern before he taps his foot lightly against Porthos’.

He waits until Porthos turns to look at him before making a show of covering the baby’s (closed) eyes and leaning in to catch Porthos’ mouth with his own. The kiss is sweet and gentle, and he feels more than hears Porthos let out a breath and relax into it, kissing him slowly. 

When they part, Porthos looks marginally more relaxed – and so Aramis counts that as a win.


End file.
